what:
bitter Italian apéritif
where:
Osteria alle Testiere
Castello 5801
Venice
when:
early spring
character:
Campari is a brightly colored (typically red) silk shirt, open at the collar.
Not, quite assuredly, an item one ventures out in without proper consideration.
For gray Tuesday afternoons in November, stateside, it is not. But in the
spring. On the Continent. Alfresco. When the sun begins to set,
and the sea turns navy, and the sky matches the deep red and orange of your
glass. Well, then, quando a Venezia…
tastes like:
A hello kiss on the cheek which has, in its pressure and placement,
the most subtle yet seductive hint of the goodnight to come.
pairs nicely with:
A rocks glass full of ice and a burnt wedge of ripe orange; the first drink
order at a luxurious hotel after arriving on holiday, the first drink after
arriving and taking a longish nap in a luxurious hotel while on holiday,
being on holiday (in general), (but especially) Venice, Capri, Portovenere,
or anywhere else within ten kilometers of the Mediterranean (not to mention
cold late-winter nights in the States when one prefers to feel as if one
were within ten kilometers of the Mediterranean); “Boum!” by
Charles Trenet, “Via con me” by Paolo Conte, and any other crooner
songs sung in French or Italian in which the need for translation is rendered
entirely unnecessary; a certain Italian woman, of a certain age, who once
said certain things in Italian to a certain young American over Campari
at a small seaside table in Portovenere, which things were said in a way
which rendered translation entirely unnecessary, and for the memory of which
afternoon the certain young American wishes to sincerely thank said Italian
woman; and prosecco an orange wedge and soda.